


Sick and Tired: A Jim Moriarty Oneshot

by Accidental_Ducky



Series: A Father's Compromise [11]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, daughter - Freeform, mormor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 02:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3632838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accidental_Ducky/pseuds/Accidental_Ducky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He sets the bowls down on the coffee table, making sure Jim and Thalia were covered up, before moving to grab his phone and snapping a once in a lifetime picture of the most dangerous man in London and the little girl that managed to steal the heart he doesn't have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick and Tired: A Jim Moriarty Oneshot

Thalia Grace Moran was sick, there wasn't anything that Jim could do about it except stuff her full of medicine and wait it out, but that doesn't mean he has to be happy about it. He's the most dangerous man in London, as his daughter enjoys pointing out, yet here he was, only able to hand his baby tissue after tissue and hold her hair back as she gets sick. He wasn't sure how to comfort the little one, that was Sebastian's job when he was home; no, Jim was the one to offer moral support while keeping his suit clean of all the nastiness a four year old can track into the house. Too bad for Jim that Sebastian was taking care of a problem in France at the moment.

As it was, Thalia is currently in bed, dosed with ibuprofen and clutching her teddy as she sleeps through a nasty case of the flu.

The house was finally quiet after hours of whimpering and Jim was too tired to worry about cleaning up the mess of medicine, broken crayons, and bullet casings spread throughout the house. Shuffling down the hall in his best suit and one bunny slipper, he finally collapses in his bed, kicking off his remaining slipper and basically tearing off his suit jacket before yanking the blanket and sheet up to cover him. Sleep is good, sleep is wanted, and sleep is damn well what he's going to get. At least, that's what he kept repeating in his head as he stares up at the ceiling. Sleep avoided him, worry eating away at him as his thoughts turn to his daughter. She's never been this sick before, sure she's had minor colds and stuffy noses, but they've always kept her shots up to date to avoid this shit.

She skips one measly appointment and now she's too sick to care about anything other than the fact that Papa Sebby was gone and Daddy Jim was stuck trying to fill in the best he could.

Jim wasn't the nurturing type, he tried, but always seemed to fall short of the mark and now his daughter is running an extremely high fever because he had to reschedule her appointment in order to fit in some well-needed school clothes shopping. Now she's sick and still doesn't have the clothes she needed for her snooty private school. He lets out a sharp sigh, turning onto his side to stare at the floor-to-ceiling windows that make up the entire left wall. There are two French doors in the center with faux gold handles that lead out onto a balcony of sorts. The three of them have breakfast out there when it's not too chilly, a breakfast that Sebastian gets up early to make in order to spend time with his daughter before having to go to work. Moonlight streams into the room, entering through a gap in the thick blue curtains and lighting the room just enough for Jim to make out the tiny shadow.

He turns onto his back again, finding Thalia standing a few feet away from his bed _,_ her pale blonde hair a tangled mess, pale cheeks a bright red, and her teddy clutched tightly to her chest. "What is it," he asks, Irish lilt more pronounced in his exhausted state. She doesn't say anything, her lower lip poking out and a whimper escaping. "Come here, Honeybear." She runs to the bed and practically jumps into his open arms, situating herself directly beside him with her little head resting against his chest. "You know Daddy loves you, right?"

"Love you, too," she whispers right before her eyes shut and her breathing evens out. She's sound asleep in seconds, but Jim is wide awake. Well, as awake as could be expected in his state. He couldn't sleep, not when his little Honeybear is running a fever high enough to make her and him both sweat. The children's ibuprofen doesn't seem to be working and he begins to wonder what he should do. _Take her to an emergency room, give her more medicine, dump her in a lukewarm bath?_ _What exactly would Sebastian order be done?_

Damn that man, he shouldn't have left when he knew things would be picking up with Thalia's school. He has a bake sale next week, her ballet picks up in three days, and her headmaster would happily nail Jim to a post. Jim was practically banned from everything he didn't have to attend all because of the time he threatened to turn Mrs. Robertson's child into a pair of sandals if the brat made one more comment about Thalia having two dads.

The next thing he knows, his alarm is blaring, the front door of his house is slamming shut, and the heavy tread of his tiger is echoing through the halls. He doesn't want to move, doesn't think it's possible to budge even an inch without pain radiating through his body. Thalia sits up slowly, her dark eyes fixed on the door and her lips twitching into a sort of smile as the bedroom door opens and Sebastian steps inside. Sebastian's gaze goes directly to their daughter, his bag falling out of his hand as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed and pull Thalia into his arms.

"Hey, Honeybear," he soothes, brushing her ratty hair out with his fingers until it's smooth and shiny again. "Why didn't you call and tell me our daughter was—" Whatever he wanted to say was forgotten as Sebastian's eyes land on Jim.

The consulting criminal looked as pitiful as their daughter, his dark eyes half-opened, nose runny, and complexion paler than usual. He's got the same sickness Thalia's suffering from, which means that Sebastian is in charge of the place until these two are back to their normal cynical selves. With a nod, Sebastian stands with Thalia in his arms and demands that Jim get his ass out of bed and follow him into the living room. Once there, he sets the pair down on the couch, wraps them both in blankets until they look like Eskimos, and disappears into the kitchen to make some soup.

"Give me the remote," he hears Jim groan, followed by a loud smack and a yelp. "Don’t you dare hit me with it again, young lady!" Sebastian laughs, knowing just how stubborn Thalia was when it came to her morning cartoons.

When he walks back in with the soup, he expects to find the pair still bickering about what they wanted to watch, but, to his great surprise, he finds them sound asleep; Thalia laying with her head in Jim's lap, Jim with his head resting on the back of the couch and his mouth wide open, both snoring louder than the rerun of Scooby-Doo playing on the TV. He sets the bowls down on the coffee table, making sure Jim and Thalia were covered up, before moving to grab his phone and snapping a once in a lifetime picture of the most dangerous man in London and the little girl that managed to steal the heart he doesn't have.


End file.
